


Mutually Assured Destruction

by Watergirl14



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Play, BDSM, Beast!Beast Boy, Bondage, Consentacles, Demon!Raven, Empath, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Magic, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Reading, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 15:38:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7898311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watergirl14/pseuds/Watergirl14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most people wouldn't have pegged Raven as the destructive sort. Sure, she had some buttons that shouldn't be pushed. Sure, she was a formidable opponent on the battlefield. But destructive for destruction's sake? Most people would say "no."</p><p>Garfield Logan was not most people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutually Assured Destruction

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, this is just smut. You've been warned.

Inwardly, Raven had the need to destroy.

 

Most people wouldn’t have pegged her as the destructive sort, given that she so often kept to herself and her books and her tea. Of course, most people hadn’t been on the receiving end of her powers. Then again, even her former teammates, who’d watched her take down enemies with varying shades of mercy, wouldn’t have necessarily said that she was the type to take someone down for the thrill of it. Sure, she had some buttons that shouldn’t be pushed, and if you pushed them you were going to be very sorry. But stay away from the buttons and she was just another hero, with good and bad tendencies that generally leaned good.

 

So outwardly, yes, most people would say that Raven wasn’t particularly destructive.

 

Garfield Logan, however, knew better than most people.

 

Now to be sure, Raven was shy and quiet most nights. When the urges weren't too strong, it was easy to let him lay in her bed and kiss her, pamper her, love her (and truly, she loved him despite their differences and his incredibly bad sense of humor). She relished those quiet moments of intimacy, the ones that approached normalcy. She loved curling up next to him with a book while he chattered about his last visit to see Victor or how he went out for pizza with Dick and Starfire. And heaven forbid someone make a joke about their sex life, Raven would always blush while Gar laughed. She was happy they’d moved out of the tower years ago, because she was sure the comments would be relentless if they’d still shared a common space with the rest of the Titans.

 

And yet it was inevitable. No matter how many kisses he lavished on her, how many times she gripped his shoulders and called out his name, how many times he told her he loved her, the urge to defile and use and wreck would always return eventually.

 

“Don't be upset,” he would say after each bout, patching himself up, grinning. “You know I can handle it. I _love_ handling it.”

 

Raven knew that to be the truth, but always felt the sting of guilt when she looked at his bruises. Leaving wounds on your lover...didn’t that make her a bad person? And yet she knew she should have understood – the creatures in him, the raw instincts, were just as brutal as she could be. Raven craved it from him, loved looking down at herself after and seeing the marred skin, the red blush, the teeth marks. It made her feel wanted.

 

The lust for violence would build up within her slowly, over the course of weeks. It was only in the final few days that she grew in danger of losing control. Before Garfield was in the picture, Raven would satiate her desires while defending the city, but she had always needed to reign it in to maintain decorum. She had never been really, truly satisfied by those fights, not even when she had traumatized Dr. Light early on. When she snapped, it was shameful. Until Gar had come along, she had never had a real and true outlet.

 

“Neither did I,” he’d told her repeatedly, trying to make her feel better.

 

Even after they had started dating (or whatever the best word was for their budding twenty-something romance) she had practiced caution. It would not do for her to explode on him. Who knew how he would react if she showed him her true colors? Years of friendship or not, he would probably leave her forever, and then where would she be? Surely he couldn’t understand what she needed and craved.

 

Fortunately, she could not have been more wrong on that front.

 

* * *

 

It had all happened so suddenly one night. They had been together for the better part of a year and were kissing on her bed, still living in Titans Tower, Raven trying to stay in control of herself, only half paying attention to where his hands were moving. Both of them had been stressed those few weeks, but she thought that things had been going fine. Then Gar had pulled back from her, a dark look in his eye.

 

“What's wrong?” he said, and he sounded almost angry. “You're not here with me, you're thinking about something else.”

 

“It's nothing,” she had answered automatically.

 

“Don't lie to me, Rae.” There was no question now that he was angry, which shocked Raven immensely. He was usually so happy! “I know there's something going on.”

 

“Are you okay?” she asked, but that didn't seem to help Gar’s mood.

 

“You have to talk to me, Raven.” His voice was deeper than normal – it would have been frightening, but she was still trying to keep hold of her rage and his tone was making that more difficult by the second. “You're holding something back.”

 

His fists had clenched. There was something different about his aura that she couldn't pin down. She took a breath and let his emotions brush hers – and jolted. Anger, jealousy, rage, and lust? He felt on the edge of something, just as she was. At first Raven panicked – had she been projecting? But this didn't feel like a remnant of her bloodlust. It was too wild, too primal, not demonic in its timbre.

 

“So are you,” she said. Gar’s face flashed with fear, and he backed away from her body quickly. His fists were no longer clenched, but now his claws were out and he was rhythmically digging them into his upper arms.

 

“I'm sorry,” he said quickly. It was always so easy for him to open up to her. “I hate getting like this. The other sides of me want out, want you. I can't get the images out of my head. The things they want to do with you are…violent and passionate and wrong.” He took a shuddering breath. “I keep trying to tell myself I don't want that, but I know that's a lie.”

 

Raven sat up. It was rare that she knew exactly how someone felt. “You don't want to lose control. You're worried about what will happen if you do, what the others will think about you, and what damage will be done along the way.”

 

He eyed her suspiciously. “Am I projecting again?” Garfield was such an open book that she often caught flashes of his thoughts, to his annoyance and embarrassment.

 

“No.” Now it was her turn to grasp at her arms. “No, I just…” She took a breath. It was only fair that she tell him. “It happens to me too. I just get the urge to…to destroy things. To brutalize someone. The urges scare me but… but it's like you said. I want those things deep down. All of them.”

 

Her lover sighed and shook his head. “We are a little fucked up, the both of us.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

They were quiet for a minute, both thankful that the other hadn't run away.

 

“So what do we do?” Gar asked. “Ignore it?”

 

Raven shook her head. “That won't help. But…I don't know. It's not like we can just act on the urges.”

 

“Why not?” he asked. “Raven, I don't like you being so disconnected from me.”

 

“Two wrongs don’t make it right, Garfield.” She shook her head again, more insistently this time.

 

“But what if it helps? What if it’s what we both need, Raven? What if–”

 

“You don’t want this from me!” she snapped, slashing her arm in front of her. The crackle of energy slipped out before she could stop it, and he flinched when it grazed his skin. The look on his face was unreadable.

 

Christ, she had to get away from him. That release had felt good, and she was liable to do it again if she didn't leave. “I should go.”

 

When she started to get up, he pushed her back down, roughly, forcefully. His hands went to her wrists and he let out a growl. “You shouldn't have done that, Raven.” His gaze was powerful. “You don’t get to tell me what I want.”

 

She was moments from snapping, could feel the energy starting to make its way to her fingers, begging for an outlet. Raven blinked and was seeing red. “Gar, let me go or I won't be able to stop myself.”

 

She heard him hiss and then registered his tongue in her mouth, and Raven moaned, so close to boiling over, the need to take everything out on his body too great.

 

“I'm sorry,” she heard herself groan. “I need this. I don't want to hurt you.”

 

“Me too,” he confessed. “You won't. I promise, both of us will be fine.” His eyes had such sincerity in them that it was hard not to believe him. “I love you.” Now he was rolling his hips against her own. Raven had never crossed arousal with her bloodlust before and it was too much for her to handle. Too late to stop.

 

Power shot out of her in a rush, curling around his wrists and ankles and dragging him off of her like he was a rag doll. The shock on his face was quickly replaced by a rage matching her own.

 

“Raven!” he yelled. She didn't let him say anything else. Instead she slammed him into the wall behind her bed, locking him in place. He hissed at the pain, but when he looked at her she could see the dark, burning arousal in his eyes. He was...excited?

 

“You're mine now, Garfield,” she purred. All hope of civility was gone – her voice had changed into that of her demon half and she could see through four eyes, not just two. “Completely at my mercy. You have no chance of escape.”

 

She sent a pulse through the restraints and he shouted her name again. His head fell forward – that wouldn't do. A fifth tendril shot around his neck, pinning it to the wall. Now he was spreadeagle and unable to move.

 

Raven barely registered that he was speaking, threatening her, telling her what depraved things he was going to do to her body when she let him down. There was a wild look in his eyes that she had never seen before. He wanted to ravage her, like she wanted to ravage him. As if she would ever let him get away!

 

A bolt of power raked over his skin like a whip, slashing through his uniform and leaving marks on his flesh. The tatters hung off of him when she was done, leaving nothing hidden from view. She could see full well his erection punching out of his body. Hadn't taken much, had it?

 

Now she approached him. From his position on the wall they were eye to eye, and he snapped his teeth at her when she leaned in to whisper.

 

“Do you like this, Gar?”

 

“Yes,” he hissed without hesitation, which almost pulled her back into sanity. But then he continued, “I'd like it better if you were the one at _my_ mercy.”

 

Raven laughed at the suggestion. “Always a joker.”

 

“Touch me,” he commanded.

 

“You're not in a position to tell me what to do, _Beast Boy_.”

 

He growled again, furious and frustrated. But she was cruel and he was her toy after all, so instead she sent another tendril toward him – this time into his mouth. His eyes widened, stayed wide as it slid in further.

 

It was trivial to gauge his mental state now. His emotions and thoughts flooded over her – anger, vulnerability, humiliation, burning desire…a trace of sweet, rosy adoration. Not a lick of fear or displeasure.

 

The demon in Raven was disappointed. The rest of her was relieved. Both parts watched with glee as the energy pumped in and out of his throat, a visible bulge there. The noises he was making were wonderful – indignant and aroused.

 

Lewd images flashed through her mind, from his, and she grinned. Raven could feel the pulse of his heart through the restraints, feel the slippery slick sensation of her tendril in his mouth as if it were part of her own body. She was dripping with anticipation.

 

“Had enough yet?”

 

The look in his eyes said no, said that he was painfully aroused, said that all he could think was _touch me touch me touch me_ – a glance to his erection confirmed. The pitiful thing was shaking, leaking, begging for attention.

 

But Raven was not yet in a merciful mood. Her mental connection to her lover was still open and he showed no signs of giving in and she was determined to change that.

 

“You seem far too happy with this arrangement,” she whispered, leaning into his ear. Without preamble she pulled the energy from his mouth, making him cough and glare.

 

As their eyes were locked, Raven licked along the tendril, tasting him. The power stung her tongue, making it hum deliciously. His eyes were wide again as he watched her take it deep into her mouth with little effort. When she moaned around it, she felt the lust pour out of him, overpowering all of his other emotions. His mental image was of her mouth around his cock, hands grabbing at her hair, forcing her to swallow every inch of him as he came.

 

“Ah-ah-ah,” Raven chided. “I'm not done with you, Gar. And when I am, you won't have the energy to grab anything of mine.”

 

“Don't make promises you can't keep,” he growled, voice hoarse.

 

Raven smirked and licked the tendril again before maneuvering it along his torso, singeing the skin just enough to hurt. “I think I liked you better when you couldn't talk.”

 

She brushed her magic over his erection, and he convulsed. She suspected he would have fallen over had he not been pinned to the wall. But it was no more than a single squeeze before she had moved lower, wrapping the tendril loosely around his thigh.

 

His frustration finally gave way to apprehension when the tip of it brushed against his ass. She stared up at him, relishing the sensations pouring off of him. His heart pounded faster and she could feel it singing through her own blood.

 

“Scared?” she whispered again.

 

He narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn't.” In response she prodded more insistently, and he went pale.

 

“I would.” She let the tendril move as it pleased around his asshole, soaked with their saliva, almost as if it was licking. Through it she could feel his quivers – and the vicarious sensations were _so_ much more intense on the wet spots.

 

A wicked idea spring through her, and with only a little effort Raven softened her tendril’s energy from stinging and hard to stinging and slick. Suddenly she was awash with feeling and she let out a little gasp. Gar felt the change too, and his breath hitched, but he didn’t protest.

 

“Get ready,” she said with a smirk.

 

Slowly she pushed the tendril in. The pain that speared through him was delicious, and he shouted and screamed and moaned. That would not do – someone would hear them. She moved the restraint around his neck to wrap around his mouth, gagging him.

 

Raven was again relieved and disappointed when the fear and apprehension were replaced with intense pleasure and arousal. She could feel him clenching around her tendril – it was hard to stay standing with such a powerful sensation overwhelming her. She needed more, he needed more, she spread his legs further apart on the wall and pressed the tendril deeper, deeper, deeper.

 

Around the gag he was moaning and growling and purring, tears falling and hissing when they hit her energy and evaporated. The muffled gasp he let out when Raven began to pull her tendril back was sinful, amplifying the pleasure she could feel from him squeezing down. She felt dizzy with power and lust and she hadn't even been touched yet.

 

Once her tendril had almost fully retracted, she slammed it into him as hard as she could, and he screamed. She slid back and pounded, again and again, without warm-up, just speed and force. His belly bulged with her efforts, and his screams faded into wanton moans, eyes slamming shut, sweat everywhere.

 

Then his cries hit a peak, and he was silent and rigid for a moment before going limp. Raven looked down and saw that his erection was beginning to deflate, and there was sticky fluid on her leotard. She instantly knew what it was.

 

How _dare_ he come before she was through.

 

Enraged, Raven did not stop pounding into him with her magic – his eyes burst open, all hope of reprieve gone. She shredded her leotard with minimal effort, the energy simmering under her skin coming out in a short burst. Now she, too, was naked, and the sudden chill told her that she'd been sweating just as much as he.

 

“You,” she seethed, “are going to pay for that.”

 

She shot yet another bolt out, this time wrapping around his cock and balls. She ignored his shrieking, watched as his erection ceased to deflate. With a little more pressure she could pump it up to an almost acceptable level.

 

Raven looked up into Garfield's eyes. He was overwhelmed and confused and delirious from his orgasm, but every thread of his mind was shouting at her, _don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop_.

 

In her last lucid moment Raven thanked whoever was listening that she was a mind reader.

 

She pulled Gar off of the wall, keeping him spreadeagle and still relentlessly pounding into him, dumped him on her bed unceremoniously and clambered on top of him. It had been too long since she’d been touched. Raven dissipated the energy around his mouth and her lover moved his jaw as though it were sore.

 

He was going to need to get used to that.

 

She flung a leg over his neck, straddling his chin. “Suck me off,” she commanded.

 

There was an evil glint in his eyes, glazed slightly from the pleasure. “Make me,” he croaked.

 

She dropped herself into his mouth. In spite of (or due to?) his harsh treatment, Gar dove in like a man starved, licking up her folds, diving his tongue into her cunt, and sucking on her clit like it was his last meal. It was Raven’s turn to shriek now – the vicarious pleasure from her tendrils had kept her on the precipice of orgasm for too long. This sent her over the edge. He growled as he lapped up her juices.

 

Raven lost control of her energy as the quakes ricocheted through her, making her fall backwards toward his chest, and it didn't register that he had grabbed her and pulled her hips into his face until he had wrenched three more orgasms out of her.

 

Just before she fell off the cliff again, she looked down and saw that nearly all of her restraints had vanished. His hands were free. Only the tendril around his cock remained.

 

Their eyes met as she screamed out his name. Then she was on her back and he was on top of her, pounding into her cunt like she had pounded into him moments before, his claws raking red lines into her arms and chest and belly, his teeth sinking into her wherever they could reach. Her nipples and clit were pinched and twisted and the flesh of her ass was groped and grabbed harshly. She could feel her last tendril shocking them both as he slapped into her.

 

Garfield grabbed the back of her head and yanked her to him, brutally forced his tongue into her throat, desperate for revenge. His other hand was over her chest, barring her from moving, and Raven was too busy keening with pleasure to retaliate. The energy was still rolling under her skin, not yet satisfied.

 

“Mine,” he was hissing between vicious kisses. “My Raven. Mine. _Mine_.”

 

He slammed his hips to hers and again she boiled over, bolts of dark magic shooting out in all directions, wrapping around his waist, her neck, his legs, her hips, locking them together in their embrace, only enough give for him to keep wildly thrusting. They were hot and they stung them both and she wasn’t able to keep control of them anymore, tendrils curling around her breasts and his cock to squeeze, tendrils sliding into whatever nooks and holes they could find. His mind was still open to her and the feedback was too much – she felt every thrust like it was her own, whether it came from her lover or her magic – and she knew that he felt the same, that he wasn’t sure where one body stopped and the other body started.

 

One of them was getting close to coming again and the other one wasn’t far behind and neither of them could breathe between being squeezed by the magic and being kissed so intensely that when they did come it was together with their lips and tongues attached and bruised. He groaned and she gasped and there were going to be purple handprints on the both of them.

 

Raven’s tendrils finally vanished fully and Gar collapsed on top of her, trying to catch his breath.

 

Everything was quiet.

 

From her chest, voice mostly gone, she heard her lover croak, “Holy fuck.”

 

“Yeah,” she said, and her voice wasn’t any better.

 

Neither of them had felt this satiated in years.

 

Gingerly he peeled himself off of her, flopping beside her on the bed, hands splayed out like she was still pinning him down. Their sweat had pooled on his heaving chest.

 

“Holy _fuck_ ,” he said again, staring at the ceiling.

 

“Are you okay?” she asked, her senses now back. She could see purplish bruises forming where the tendrils had been, on his face and neck especially.

 

Between pants, he replied, “We need...to do that...all the time.”

 

“Oh god, no.” Raven sat up, ignoring some screaming muscles and exhaustion. “You’re a mess. Look at you, I did this to you, there’s burns and bruises and cuts and–”

 

Still intent on the ceiling, he raised a single finger at her and shushed her. “Worry about me...in five minutes.” The finger came back down to the bed as though gravity had suddenly gone into effect.

 

Raven supposed there was no arguing with that, so she looked down at herself. She had the same purple bruises as he, plus claw marks all over her. Every part of her felt sore. Her toes were still reflexively curled from the orgasms – how many had she had? Six? She thought six. At least six.

 

But the mental clarity that she had was the most bewildering thing of all. She’d just spent, what, the last hour or so? She’d spent it fucking and getting fucked with no holding back on either of their parts. Everything seemed clear for the first time in ages. There was nothing simmering in the back of her mind to take everything out on someone. Nothing was yelling at her to tear someone apart limb from limb. Not that it had been screaming _kill kill kill_ this time anyway. Just screaming _mine mine mine_.

 

Maybe getting her sex and violence wires crossed was a good thing?

 

“Are _you_ okay?” she heard Gar ask. He still hadn’t moved, but now he was looking at her instead of the ceiling.

 

“I’m not sure,” she replied, thinking for a second. “I think so? I haven’t felt this good in a long time, but...I don’t think I like using you like that. I hurt you. Selfishly.”

 

Her lover took a deep breath, then sat up with a cringe. “There’s a difference between hurt and harm, Raven.” Gar rolled his neck and something popped – the cringe vanished. “Oof. And you weren’t using me – I was definitely willing.” He stretched his arms over his head – more popping. “Ahh. I feel like I just went on a six-month vacation. Jesus. That was awesome.”

 

Raven mostly agreed, but the part of her that didn’t made her hug him. He didn’t question it, just pulled her gently into his lap.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Rae?” He ran his fingers through her sticky hair. “If you don’t want to do that again, that’s completely all right, but I’m really fine. Beyond fine, I’m fucking great. Do I look traumatized to you?”

 

She looked up at his smile. It was hard to ignore the bruises, but she had to admit he had a light in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since they were much younger.

 

“No,” she admitted.

 

Now it was his turn to look concerned. “Was I too harsh on you?”

 

“No.” That, at least, didn’t take any thought. She would certainly like for him to do that again.

 

He kissed the top of her forehead. Raven wasn’t sure why this felt so normal, especially after everything they’d done that evening. “Do you want to maybe do this again sometime, Raven?” he asked.

 

She thought for a moment, weighed her mental clarity with her guilt. He kept telling her he was okay, that he liked it. She wasn’t sure if she believed that, but Raven had learned to trust Garfield’s word over the years. Besides, he still had that gleeful look on his face, and she _knew_ he couldn’t be faking that one.

 

Raven brushed a piece of hair out of her face. “Maybe sometime.”

 

“Good!” He kissed her nose, nuzzled the side of her neck. The mischief in his voice was obvious as he said, “Next time it’s _your_ turn to get held down.”

 

* * *

 

That first time had been years ago. After a few close calls with getting caught by their nosy teammates, they’d moved out into their own base of operations with the excuse that they were getting into their late twenties and really need to stop acting like “Teens” and more like “Titans”.

 

They suspected that their former teammates suspected, but Raven would be damned if she said anything.

 

People who hadn’t seen them in a while always commented about how much more relaxed they both looked – they would just smile at each other knowingly.

 

“I’m so lucky,” she said to him once while he was attached to their bed frame. “Without you, I think I would have never relaxed at _all_.”

 

He beamed. “Sorry, Rae, but I’m the lucky one.”

 

Raven laughed. “You’ll wish you’d never met me once I’m done with you tonight.”

 

Before she managed to shut him up, he squeaked out: “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”


End file.
